It's a Losing Game
by JO89
Summary: ... and right from the beginning never meant to end.
1. The End Is Near

So this was it, _the end..._

The wind was howling – the only thing Hermione heard, fading out the screams of her fallen comrades in her mind.

But now lying in the mud, exhausted, tired, injured, she slowly accepted the idea of giving up. It was comfortably easy doing it after years of fighting and watching her family and friends die.

Her iron will was broken, shattered into tiny little bits.

She was so fed up with fighting. Emptiness had welcomed her, and her brave heart which always burnt so hot for equality, was gelidly frozen and stabbed bitterly in her chest. The fire, it had extinguished. She didn't remember how it felt being happy, Hermione didn't know anymore how it was like laughing and enjoying. It was like if she hadn't done it for ages.

It was the end, she knew it. Deeply in her heart, she _knew_ it.

Nothing inside her reminded Hermione of her former, strong, younger self, no braveness, no volition, neither the sentence her dad had always told her, when she was little: _"Giving up is no option, it's only weakness." _But she didn't have the power to stand up for her beliefs.

If she could only turn back time, Hermione thought. She would tell her younger self to welcome every day much more as she personally had. Closing her eyes, ignoring the tears running over her face, feeling the mud underneath her body, for her it was hard to swallow. Digging her fingers into the soil-

Hermione wasn't the type of human who wanted to hide any longer. And she hadn't the energy to strive for freedom any more. How could she when no one was left?

In the distance Harry's voice shouted, spelled hexes ... Hermione heard screaming again, painfully. She was exactly aware of how Harry must feel. Hermione nearly felt the same pain, piercing marrow and bone.

Then Greyback whimpered terribly and it took seconds until she watched into Potter's dirty face. He had found her, somewhere deep in the Forbidden Forest. The green eyes were gleaming full of hope and strong-mindedness, the little smile on his lips.

Harry was like a rising phoenix who always knew the solution. Weakness didn't exist in his world as long as he fought for his attitudes.

"Pull yourself together, Hermione! No one said it'll be easy fighting against Voldemort!" Harry's voice chided harshly. For a single moment she had totally forgotten that at least he was in the same precarious plight. The witch bobbed up immediately glaring at her best friend, the last one still alive.

"Oh, I'm totally sorry facing the truth, Harry Potter!" she hissed sardonically, stressing the last two words as if she was disgusted, while scraping the filthy ground. Harry rolled his eyes dramatically as he knew, since the situation got worse, Hermione tended to overact and – more sadden – overreact.

"So they died for nothing? Is it that you want to tell me?" Harry, now sitting down besides Granger, narrowed his deeply green eyes. Eventually they were the last thing reminding Hermione of the quasi undying hope she felt right at the beginning when they searched for the Horcruxes.

"No, but... but – It's over Harry! What should we do now? We just can't turn back times and change history!" She screamed throwing her hands up in the air and let her head landing with a slight thud on the ground again. How frustrating...

The boy who lived raised his eyebrows and as he wanted to add something, she promptly interrupted. "And if we even manage that, how can we be sure, nobody will figure out who we really are? I mean, look at that!" Hermione stroked back her long sleeve showing Harry her ugly, burnt in inscription from Bellatrix Lestrange. Looking away quickly she tried hard not to cry again, while pressing her hand on the mark. Harry couldn't help himself but caressing her wild, dusty hair.

"You know, that I loved to grow up with all of you, even with the prat Draco... He always reminded me of how I never wanted to become." he heard her sobbing voice. Letting out a deep sigh, Harry nodded faintly.

He took her hands and pulled until she stood on her feet. Out of a sudden the earth quacked. Surely, it was a curse. Bellatrix and Greyback were amused, as they found them again they watched them, sneering.

"Do you really think you can win this? Do you really think you can hide?" Lestrange mumbled sweetly.

"There you are!" The cold, high voice riled. Beyond all doubt, this was Voldemort who burnt the muggle-town London hours before, appearing out of thin air, in his black robes with his red flushing eyes. Turning around Harry and Hermione faced the Dark Lord who was smirking darkly.

"Well, as you might not know – you can't hide forever!" he whispered in his high voice viciously, before shooting the Cruciatus curse at them, not knowing that they wouldn't. Hermione tripped back and landed in the mud again, besides Harry simply stepped out of way, raising his wand. The spell hit a withered tree behind the two of them. Her heart was pumping faster than ever as she tightened her grip around her own one.

She felt the link chain with the time turner around her neck – lying cold, heavy and firm against her naked skin - she didn't know why breathing felt so hard. Was it because of the fear, because of the wounds or the metal hanging around her neck?

Facing Lord Voldemort grinning about their desperate faces made it even worse.

"I wish I could say, it was a pleasure, but it wasn't." he sneered confidently enjoying the feeling of victory as his lips formed the words for the worst Unforgivable, Harry spelled resolutely not ready for giving up: "Stupefy!"

Harry also hexed Bellatrix Lestrange before he started running, Hermione back on her feet close behind him reaching for his hand. They didn't know if the curse hit the witch, but they didn't care at all.

"Don't let them escape!" a strict, icy order of the Dark Lord himself.

Hermione recognized the cliff in front of them. Harry just kept running, never minded to stop, she tried to free her hand from his tight grip. She knew they wouldn't survive.

Hermione knew she would die. There were the only possibilities: _drowning or the killing curse_

And she didn't want to fight for her life anymore. It should be over. It ended anyway. And she was totally broken after all.

The time turner bobbed heavily around her neck, as it felt as if time stood still.

Harry jumped and didn't release her hand. One last look behind her shoulder, hearing her heart pumping in her ears, listening to the angry voice of Voldemort echoing in her head, Hermione watched into his piercing look, while he shouted: "Adava Kedavra!" Then she saw the killing curse rushing to her. "Die, little mud-blood, die!"

The hex hit the time turner which burst into dust. They fell, holding hands all the time, and in the next wink Hermione wasn't able to inhale, not able to see although her eyes were wide open, – or at least she thought they were... Only knowing they were surrounded by blackness. Hermione still felt Harry's warm fingers, and then the witch blacked out.

More surprisingly for the Dark Lord, who was standing there alone at the cliff and watching the sea. Bellatrix and Greyback were looking for them, Voldemort knew it, he had told them to do. But they were nowhere to find; it was as if the earth had swallowed them up, and that was just impossible. So what had happened?


	2. Face to Face

It was windy as the grass swayed back and forth gingerly. Birds were singing outside, while Professor Albus Dumbledore went for a walk through the school. He stopped at one of the high old windows in the second floor and looked outside at the lands of Hogwarts. The sun began to set in the distance and dip-painted the sky in violet and purple gradually. But it was still a warm summer evening in August.

"Peeves, don't you think I know when you walk through walls?" Albus turned to picture the ghost who smiled mischievously. His blue eyes twinkled before he wished the poltergeist good night, which flew through the ceiling.

This evening, he didn't know why, was different. Dumbledore walked outside from the Castle to the Astronomy Tower. His cloak billowed because of the wind. Eventually he found his way back and the tall man stopped at the Black Lake. The dark water glistened beautifully just because of the last rays of sunlight.

He stroked his auburn beard, almost headed to the Castle again as he recognised something. After another look, he knew, this something was someone, injured and unconscious. He brandished his wand and went on to the castle, the two young people hovering behind him.

The winged doors flew open as Dumbledore entered at a hurried pace. "Madam Peppercress! Madam Peppercress, where are you?" His loud voice echoed from the walls. "I do really hope she's not asleep yet", he mumbled frantically. He looked backwards to the black haired wizard and the witch, who were placed on the empty beds. A few minutes later, another door swung open and Professor Dumbledore saw the young woman tripping over her own feet, in her midnight blue dressing gown. "Oh thank Merlin you're here! I found those two at the Great Lake..." Albus placed his broad hand on her back and pushed her to the beds.

It didn't take long to heal the worst injuries and disinfect the wounds or apply bandages. Madam Peppercress and Professor Dumbledore hadn't talked for hours as they watched them sleeping.

It was a starless night, as the moon shone lightly through the windows of the Hospital Wing. The room was silent and as the nurse stood up and store her utensils away, she couldn't stop herself: "What do you think happened to them? I mean, they are still kids - youths... they... they..." Professor Dumbledore tried to calm her. "As soon as they wake up, we'll hopefully know it." Madam Peppercress nodded thoughtfully and went to bed eventually. And as Dumbledore left the Hospital Wing, he glanced back to Hermione and Harry for one more time. It was a mystery how they came to Hogwarts, and also worryingly.

* * *

><p>The following morning Harry's eyes fluttered open and he couldn't help, but groan with pain moments later. Starring at the ceiling, one question entered his mind: <em>Where am I? <em>The wizard tried to sit up carefully and looked around. Out of a sudden everything felt so familiar, it felt like being home. This room reminded him of Hogwarts, which at least was his home for a long time. It was always more family than being with the Dursleys'.

Harry sighed wistfully as his heart sank. It must be a dream, because that Hogwarts didn't exist any longer. He knew it; he had seen how it burnt down.

* * *

><p><em>Over a year ago Lord Voldemort had spoken the worst Unforgivable; the curse had hit Harry James Potter in the Forbidden Forest.<em>

Then, in front of the school, the boy who lived became conscious and a little bit staggering, but back on his feet, the war began once again.

Harry heard Mrs. Weasley's voice warning_: "Not my daughter, you bitch!"_ Bellatrix laughed mockingly and parried Molly's hex off. Then Lestrange attacked and Ginny's mother backed off, but she repelled the curses. For Bellatrix it was easy sidestep Molly's attacks, as easy as casting a well-aimed lethal spell at her. Ginny screamed in fury and grief and burnt Bellatrix' shoulder. That was the moment Voldemort stood aside the witch, pointing the Elder Wand at the Weasley. Seconds later Harry confronted his enemy who haunted the Potter even in his dreams. It was a bitter struggle, until the younger one managed to disarm his opponent.

"Tom, you are the reason why so many people had to live in fear! Because of you, so many had to die!" Harry yelled enraged while he pointed his wand at the Dark Lord's smirking face. Nonetheless Voldemort seemed confidently.

"Crucio!" Harry heard the curse. When he sidestepped the hex, the Potter needn't look behind him to know who the wizard was. Harry, now facing Lucius Malfoy, gave Voldemort - involuntarily - the chance to clutch at the Elder Wand again.

"Hands off! He's mine!" The Dark Lord growled full of hate, "I'll be the one who destroys him! Who breaks every inch of his bones! Lucius, don't dare butt into this!" His eyes flashed red. Raising his wand, spelling 'Petrificus Totalus', Voldemort was completely in his element. Harry could use Protego, but stepped back a little.

"Didn't you listen?!" The Dark Lord yelled at the Death Eater again, as Lucius raised his wand. Then the situation changed.

_Expelliarmus!_ – The Malfoy got disarmed.

_'Accio dad's wand!'_ was the spell why Lucius looked at his son in disbelief.

"Draco!", hissed the blond haired man, simultaneously the Dark Lord snarled: "Traitor!" After casting the Cruciatus Curse only for Harry, Voldemort ordered: "Kill him!" "But he's my son!" Lucius protested, still starring at his own flesh and blood. "That's your problem, Lucius! Do it!" The high voice yelled, sounding like a siren. "But I have no wand!" answered Lucius helplessly before he was thinking; only watching how Draco was pointing Narcissa's wand at him, the wizard called himself an idiot!

Meanwhile Harry shot 'Stupefy' at his opponent who casted 'Protego' which didn't work impeccably. Alarm bells started ringing in the Dark Lords head, but in the next wink, the Dark Lord spelled: "Avada Kedavra!" The curse rushed to Harry's former school mate. Draco, standing there paralysed, reminded of a deer caught in the headlights. The wands fell onto the ground as the hex whizzed past its goal.

Moments later Lucius seized Draco by the collar, and then he hissed annoyed: "Fall down on your knees and cry for mercy!" But all, his son did, was swallow hard, no begging, no whimpering.

They heard Voldemort hissing 'Crucio' and Harry ducked it. And as the Potter spelled another hex, Voldemort shouted in a provoking tone: "Don't you think that I can wait? I did nothing else but that for nearly two decades! So, it'll be a pleasure to ruin you!" Then the Dark Lord turned into black smoke and fled.

"Lucius!" the Malfoy heard the voice of the boy who lived, knew Harry's unspoken warning, and stepped away from his son. "You'll be sorry for that," were the last words to Draco before the man disappeared too. Draco, still shocked, looked at the Gryffindor who watched back. None of them said a word.

* * *

><p>"Oh, you're awake!" Harry heard the kind voice and turned his head to the witch. <em>"Who are you?" <em>He sounded warily and normally he knew it better than behave like this, as the woman searched for a healing potion. "I'm Madam Peppercress. And this is the Hospital Wing of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Harry nearly choked on his own spit and bit his tongue not to ask which year was written. "Professor Dumbledore has found you. I think he'll be here in the next minutes." The wizard couldn't stop himself starring at her in utter disbelief. The witch recognised how extremely strange his reaction was, because Dumbledore, who rarely forgot a face, didn't know him.

The witch was still sleeping, and Harry stood up, slowly walking to the windows. Madam Peppercress kept her eyes glued to the black haired wizard, who looked carefully at the landscapes.

As Professor Dumbledore entered, Harry was speechless. He had only seen him like this in Riddle's memories. Out of a sudden, it was obvious how hunted and haunted Harry seemed. The tall man looked into his eyes, using Legilimency. Memories of fighting and surviving; the young black haired wizard was on his knees, crying and holding the dead Ginny in his arms. Then Harry closed his mind.

"I'm Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I teach Transfiguration. What's your name?" he wanted to know softly as if mind-reading had never happened. "H- Harry... Harry James-"

The wizards stopped immediately talking. _I can't say I'm a Potter._

His mood changed. Harry appealed innerly broken. The wizard grabbed faltering at the windowsill and sat on the ground, gazing into space.

"I think you should rest a little, we can talk later." Albus assumed and helped him stand up, leading him to the bed. Madam Peppercress gave Harry a potion after Dumbledore left.

And as the nurse let him alone too, Harry noticed the Daily Prophet with its headline of Gellert Grindlewald, whose followers fought in the south of Great Britain, not as the Potter knew from his own History classes, that he flew and controlled a big part of continental Europe.

But more shocking was the date: 25th August 1944

* * *

><p>Time passed and as Harry was sitting with Dumbledore eating lunch, Hermione was still lying at the Hospital Wing. "So, Mister Evans, now I know, you're 18 years old and also your full name, but you haven't told me yet how you came to Hogwarts." Harry sighed frustrated, telling a lie wasn't as easy as it seemed. "I honestly have no clue. The last thing I remember is battling in Brighton with Hermione against..." Harry swallowed. Dumbledore tried to calm him automatically.<p>

"Do you have any relatives still alive?" The professor tried as hard as much not to open new - or at least old - wounds, but he had to know. Harry wagged his head, not able to form one word.

Finally the old man added: "I have to talk with the headmaster about you. Afterwards I'll inform you if you're allowed to stay." But whether or not, Dumbledore knew already, he would help them getting a full life again, if that was almost possible. Actually, they fought for good and they were too young for such a fate.

The professor gave Harry some money to buy new clothes and some sweets, and then he left.

* * *

><p>In the evening Professor Dumbledore discussed with Headmaster Dippet.<p>

"I don't want to have enemies of Grindelwald attending our school!" Armando yelled enraged, banging on the table. Albus looked at him searchingly and wandered if he was serious. "Hogwarts was always – and still is a place, where is no space for prejudices. You never took the line of the least resistance. It's comfortable to bounce them. That's true, but it's not correct and you know it exactly!"

There was a knocking at the door. Both had totally forgotten that Dippet wanted to see Harry and Hermione. As they entered, it was silent and Armando sighed heavily. "All right, where's the Sorting Hat? Otherwise, school can't start." Professor Dumbledore smiled, being content.

Hermione Jean Seymour– the idea of Potter - found her new home for the following year in Ravenclaw.

But as Harry James Evans was sorted to Slytherin, Albus' smile faded. The man was looking at the wizard in disbelief, while Dippet mumbled upset: "Oh, how great! A snake..."

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. One question was ringing in Potter's ears: _How could that be? _

He always was so proud being a Gryffindor like his parents.

* * *

><p>On 1st September, Hermione was busy. She ran up and downstairs, headed to the library and looked for inkpots and quills and other stuff in Hogsmeade. It was the first day Madam Peppercress had pronounced her healthy. And the witch was so fed up with lying in the bed the entire day. And although Harry had brought her everything she asked for, she wanted to explore the Hogwarts of 1944 on her own.<p>

It was afternoon and the witch was on the way to Harry, who sat at the Great Lake enjoying the sun and thinking of his past. _Lord Voldemort had won; there was no one left to stop him in their time, just because they were caught in another century, the Dark Lord's youth years._

She immediately stopped on the stairs as she watched a student talking to the caretaker politely. Firstly, he reminded her of Neville, the tall young man, friendly and brave, honest and well-behaved. She fought back tears as her eyes got watery. She missed all of her friends so desperately.

And when the student looked at her, Hermione's heart froze. The witch even stopped breathing as she was totally aware of whom he was. _Tom Marvolo Riddle_, her personally worst nightmare.

It didn't help that his look was gentle, either.

Granger swallowed and held his gaze until he seemed perplexed. That was the moment she ran away. Tom had seen it in her eyes, the despite, the fury and the grief, but why? And the more interesting why did she obviously associate those feelings with him? He couldn't remember meeting her in his life before.


	3. An Inconvenient Restart

Hermione stopped besides Harry and sat down on the grass, scowling. The Potter looked at her frowning. "Is anything wrong?"

"What do mean exactly? The fact we're captured in 1944 or that I've seen Riddle already – I thought that the students would arrive in the evening..." Hermione stopped talking and watched the Black Lake. "So what is he doing here?" she wandered, not assuming that Harry would give her an answer. "Ask him", Harry suggested sardonically and received a disgusted reply: "What?!"

"If you want to know what he's doing here, ask him, but I think he'll say he's attending school", began the Potter seriously, but he couldn't stop himself from joking a little while making a face.

Hermione glared at him and pursed her lips. That wasn't funny at all!

The wizard rolled his eyes and sighed. "Oh come on, don't act oversensitive..." He knew that meeting Riddle would have happened, sooner or later didn't matter much. And he thought Granger had also realised that. The witch jumped on her feet and yelled: "_Harry James Potter_! Don't make a fool out of me!"

Harry narrowed his eyes and looked at her as if he wanted to know: _Are you dumb or something? How could you call me Potter! In this time, my name is Evans._

But he changed his mind and fired back: "Oh, you're doing that perfectly on your own. You really don't need me for behaving like a tit!"

Hermione stamped her foot and growled: "Sometimes you're such a git!" Then she turned and ran back to the castle. Momentarily she bade her best friend good riddance!

* * *

><p>The doors flew open and a moody witch stormed into the library, as Tom Riddle was sitting at a window seat, reading the Daily Prophet, he caught a glimpse of her. Hermione ran along the aisles. On her left as well as on her right side, heavy book shelves stood one after the other. She searched for a book about potions, only watching the titles, but didn't read them, because her mind was full of Harry and that stupid discussion. Today he was so awful. Wasn't the situation itself bad enough? Did Harry really have to treat her like that? Hermione grabbed after a book, which she knew was burnt during Lord Voldemort's first rise.<p>

"I might find some important information..." she wondered, looking at it thoughtfully. Then she went back to the tables.

Tom had started to read the newspaper again and looked up, as he heard steps again. When Hermione came into his view again, he watched her precisely. Whether suspicion or only curiosity, Tom couldn't tell at that moment, but she didn't recognise him anyway. The witch was too busy reading the first pages of the tome.

As she kept walking towards him, Tom coughed slightly and Hermione stopped immediately. She was staring at him wide-eyed. "Good afternoon, my name is Tom Marvolo Riddle and I'm the Head-Boy." He stood up elegantly, stroking back his black hair, and then he stepped closer to her for shaking hands. But the witch didn't say a word; neither had she reacted to his gesture. Tom clasped his hands behind his back and studied her face. When he looked into her brown eyes he saw much more than they first met: to name at least one, self-confidence, but more surprisingly that she didn't trust him. And he had no idea why. The wizard raised an eyebrow and asked: "You aren't chatty, are you?" Hermione shut her book, but still looked at him.

_How could he sit on her seat?_ She always sat at that table and on that chair when she was in Hogwarts. Honestly, Hermione knew that Riddle lived here for seven years, but it never entered her mind, he could have had the same favourite place in the library. And she did hope that this was just a terrible coincidence. The witch felt disgusted and queasy, only because of that thought.

Tom narrowed his eyes as he saw how pale her face got.

"Is it possible you don't talk to half-bloods and muggle-borns? Let me guess, you are far too good to have a conversation with people whose bloods aren't pure. Am I right? Well, my surname is the only thing which reminds me of my muggle-father. Pretty prejudiced, to estimate someone by the last name, don't you think? Oh, I forgot..." His voice didn't sound as polite as before, but cold and hurt too, as Hermione interrupted him sourly. "I'm not a racist, Mister Riddle!" Tom was caught off guard, now it was his part to watch her in utter disbelief. "It's just a long time since I had my last normal conversation with someone, and it does feel strange somehow." Those with Harry didn't count, because they mostly had to do with the war. What shocked Hermione more was that she told him something about her past, as if he were a normal human being and no psychopath with the purpose to murder thousands of innocent people."By the way, I'm Hermione Jean Seymour." The witch bit her tongue not to say Granger, as she always did.

"You're a new student." Tom mumbled and didn't know what else to talk.

"Of course I am, don't be stupid." Hermione couldn't stop herself and felt awkward out of a sudden. It might be not the best idea to insult Voldemort on the very first school day. _Teasing the Future Dark Lord felt_... she didn't find the words for it.

Riddle started grinning amused: "And bold too." Hermione glared at him as he added: "Anyway, do you really think I'm dumb enough to believe your obvious excuse?"

"I think you're clever enough to know when someone is telling you a lie" the witch shot back and Riddle seemed bemused.

"Maybe you don't believe me, when I say, that half-bloods are as good as pure-bloods", he sounded arrogant, and Hermione supposed that this could be because no one gave him the feeling of being equal before. "As you know, that every wizard and witch has different talents..." Hermione began and saw how furious the wizard got, "it is possible that half-bloods and also muggle-borns are much better than pure-bloods." Tom said nothing, he just listened with interest. All his anger was gone. "And, you must know, my best friend Harry is a half-blood. And I've never seen a wizard, neither a witch, especially no pure-blood, who is as outstanding, talented and extraordinary as he is." She wished him a nice day, although she couldn't tell why she did it, and left with the book in her hands the library.

Hermione left Tom Marvolo Riddle speechless, which didn't happen often. So the wizard decided to have his eye on her.

* * *

><p>In the evening Harry walked to the Great Hall. As he entered the room, the wizard looked to the empty Gryffindor table and stopped thoughtfully. He caught himself going to his former house, which hurt more than it did in the headmaster's office. Harry didn't understand what had changed to be sorted into Slytherin. Nonetheless his entire life wasn't how he had known it. This wasn't <em>his time<em>. This wasn't _his home_. And there at the table didn't sit _his friends_. They weren't even born yet. Potter sighed frustrated and finally managed his way to the snakes.

As Harry was sitting, he looked around. This Hogwarts looked similar to that in his time, but he didn't feel comfortable at all. Harry felt lost and alone, the hours at the Black Lake without Hermione had shown it. He knew he wasn't really nice to his best friend, the last one alive, but what did Hermione think, Harry should do?

This was an exceptional situation, a different one in comparison with the last years. Harry found this more difficult, than fighting. He couldn't wait and watch Lord Voldemort rise. He swore it to himself he wouldn't, but at first he needed a plan, _a new strategy._ And when the time had come, he would need his entire energy to win.

_Failing once more... _He didn't want to think of it. He lost too much. Harry lost too many. In that moment, he wished – maybe more than ever – his beloved Ginny was with him.

As the Potter heard voices, he looked to the winged doors. Many students rushed into the Great Hall, laughing, chatting and joking. Most of them were innocent, young magicians, who would never harm a fly. _Most of them,_ Harry knew it better, when he thought of the first Death Eaters who grew up in 1944 with his worst enemy Voldemort. The Potter felt the anger and the bitterness pumping through his veins, as he remembered once more, what this man had done.

Lost in his own thoughts Harry didn't recognise the students sitting next to him, neither the whispering. Headmaster Dippet welcomed the new students and the sorting began, which Harry hardly noticed.

The Potter was totally caught in his own past with Ron and Neville at his side.

* * *

><p>They were at Diagon Alley and left the Leaky Cauldron, as the office of the Daily Prophet exploded. Many were screaming. The three wizards whipped their wands out and ran to the burning building. "Stupefy!" Neville ducked immediately and looked after his friends. Ron was okay as well as Harry.<p>

"Rodolphus, darling, you have to practise your accuracy", Bellatrix laughed insanely and spelled the Anti-Disapparation Jinx. Ron yelled 'Incarcerous' as he saw Lucius flourishing his wand, but the opponent used Protego. Incatena hit Neville, while Harry shot a curse at Bellatrix. Ron sidestepped Malfoys hex and burnt Lucius cloak. So the Weasley had time to free Neville. The black smoke made it difficult to see anyway, as Rodolphus disappeared in the fume. "Harry!" Ron couldn't see his best friend either. He didn't answer. Harry was too busy hunting Bellatrix. He had a score to settle with her, not only because of Molly.

* * *

><p>Harry had missed the singing as well.<p>

The wizard looked puzzled to the left, as a student asked him, if he wasn't hungry at all. "Pardon?" was all Harry could answer, still thinking of Neville who they had lost that day. Longbottom died painfully, because of Rodolphus Lestrange, who fled terribly injured. The Daily Prophet had burnt down completely that day and a lot had to go to St. Mungo's Hospital.

The student laughed and continued. "It's not easy attending a new school, huh? I'm Dolohow." Harry looked at him for one more moment, then he introduced himself: "Evans. Harry James Evans."

As the Potter looked around, he noticed that all the first Death Eaters were sitting around him: Malfoy, Lestrange, Avery, Nott, Mulciber, Rosier. _Only Riddle is missing_, Harry thought, but didn't know, if this was good or bad. Then Malfoy handed him pork and mashed potatoes. The Potter thanked grinning, while thinking: _"One day you'll regret it."_

In fact, in a family like this, Draco had never had the chance to become something else than a prat. The only good thing of Draco was that he knew the difference between good and evil. Draco was a coward, yes. He feared the Dark Lord more than anything else, but he was brave enough to save lives.

"And which school did you attend?" was the next question. "I was home-schooled", Harry informed flatly and looked to Nott, who nodded pensively. The Potter had racked his brain the whole morning to tell a good lie. "And why did you decide to come to Hogwarts?" Mulciber looked to Harry, who shrugged. "You know, you can't plan everything."

Then the Head-Boy came along and greeted almost trustworthily friendly: "Hey guys!" He sat down between Rosier and Avery, while he ran his fingers through his black hair. "How was travelling? Are you all fine?" As Harry heard this and the extremely nice answers Riddle got, he wanted to vomit, although he carried it off well. His profound aversion for Riddle was ineffable big. Harry started eating, and tried not to look at him again, otherwise it could be that he lost his temper. Harry heard that they talked about summer holidays, while Riddle mostly listened. Well, summer holidays in an Orphanage couldn't be much interesting, besides Riddle hated muggles. So why should he wanted to talk about it?

"And you are a new student too?" Riddle looked at Harry, who held his gaze and nodded slightly. "I would say so." Tom started smirking. "And you were sorted into the best house of whole Hogwarts. Congratulations!" Harry knew, Riddle's voice sounded too sweet to mean it honest. As Harry didn't react, Malfoy explained: "Well, only the best wizards and witches come to Slytherin. Those with the purest blood, those with..." "I'm not a pure-blood", Harry interrupted promptly and wanted to slap himself. _This wasn't the best idea._

They all stared at him in disbelief; the Potter didn't feel comfortable at all. "You're a blood-traitor!?" Rosier spit, but flinched as Riddle looked daggers at him. Harry rolled his eyes. "I hadn't my pick of being a half-blood, so no." Harry wasn't hungry anymore, so he stood up. "However... if you have any problems because I'm a half-blood, let me know."

"Oh, you can be sure, that you won't have a good time here!" Harry looked at the witch who said that. He supposed she must be Snape's future-mother and then he grinned: "Promise?"

The Potter knew she wanted to add something, but didn't have the bottle to do it.

As Harry left the table, he heard the whispering. And the wizard knew that all eyes were focused on him. It didn't matter much anyway. Then he saw his best friend leaving the Great Hall. "Hermione, wait!" he shouted and the witch stopped and smiled at him.

Riddle stared to the doors, although the two were long gone. "Now you're not the only half-blood anymore, isn't it, Riddle?" the witch sounded mischievously, sneering at him. Riddle gave her a blank look, but deep inside he was apoplectic with rage.

"Do you think this is funny?" Riddle answered sweetly, "Well, may I inform you that I'm much better than you are, although I'm not pure-blooded. To be honest, you're not able to fasten your shoes much less you're able to cast a spell." The last sentence sounded arrogant, and Tom felt much better as he saw into her watery eyes. Then he started talking to his friends. And Riddle decided to keep an eye on both, Seymour and this new wizard.

* * *

><p>Harry and Hermione lay on a couch in the Room of Requirements and looked to the ceiling. "I'm sorry, Hermione." Harry told her after a while. The witch looked at her best friend and smiled. "Already forgiven and forgotten." she mumbled gently. Then the room was silent again.<p>

"Did you get everything you needed?" Harry wanted to know, after a few minutes, because he couldn't bear the quietness any longer. "Well, I got quills and parchments and ink. I needn't look for the books, because you were so nice to bring it, when you were at Diagon Alley two days ago. And yeah, I got a school uniform at Hogsmeade this morning." Harry nodded and whipped a passport from his pocket. "That's yours." the wizard added bluntly and looked into Hermione's brown eyes. He managed that they got new ones', not only because theirs weren't useful anymore. Who had passports with a date of birth of 1980 in the 1940's? Yes, no one, _except_ _time travellers_. And nobody needed to know that.

Instead Harry had told the magician at the office that the old passports and birth certificates were burnt in a big fire in Brighton as Grindlewald attacked them. Seemingly this was enough information for the man. Well, it may have helped that Dumbledore was with Harry.

After another few minutes Granger asked while looking into his green eyes: "Harry, what shall we do now?" He didn't answer instantly. "We'll see..."


End file.
